


remains the same

by Pandasushiroll



Category: Marvel
Genre: Angst, Biting, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Pining, Rough Sex, Smut, Stephen Strange & Wong Friendship, Stephen Strange Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24456499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandasushiroll/pseuds/Pandasushiroll
Summary: Stephen contemplates his complicated interactions with May Parker, and how they've rapidly spun out of control.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Stephen Strange, May Parker (Spider-Man)/Stephen Strange
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	remains the same

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from but I'm gonna go ahead and blame Circle for this one.

He’ll sacrifice her in a second. He tells her that on the first night. 

"I won't hesitate," He insists. She reaches for him but he catches her wrist because she needs to hear this. He needs her to understand that she will never be the center of his universe. That she can't be. Ever. 

She nods, murmuring softly, "I know."

She's very touchy. She's always in physical contact with someone and it drives him insane because he hates when people are in his personal space. He brushes her off repeatedly, shrugging out from under her hand most of the time. It's warm and that heat lingers on his skin somehow. Even though there are several layers in between them. He doesn't quite get it.

She's arrogant. She's talkative. She tends to steam roll over things she doesn't like or completely misconstrues them altogether. It's frustrating and it makes him grind his teeth. 

When she's with Wong she flutters around him like a little bee. Constantly buzzing from space to space. She hovers around him while he works. Wong chuckles under his breath at her jokes despite his resolve to never laugh at any of Stephen's. (Not that he cares.) But she's worked her way into their home. 

There are remnants of her everywhere. She brings them gifts constantly and Wong keeps finding space for them all. Thankfully. She hand makes a lot of the gifts. He doesn't have to wonder when she has the time because she makes the time. That's the sort of person she is. She makes time for others first and it's...well it's something he hasn't quite decided on yet. Sometimes she straightens things or adjusts them and it's kind of irritating. Why does she think she has any right to do that? He hisses at her sometimes to leave things be. She can't just _leave things alone_. She helps Wong in the garden sometimes, planting useless things like flowers for _decoration_ of all things. 

The Sanctum lets her in sometimes when he's not there and he has mixed feelings about it. 

She's invading his space. Socially, metaphorically, and physically. He wishes she'd just stop and _think_.

She can comfort anyone (but him) it seems. He catches her one day with James Barnes and he's whimpering in her lap. She's stroking his hair and murmuring soft soothing words. He doesn't catch them. He just wonders why she thought to bring him to the Sanctum garden. Wong is observing them at his side, silently wondering the same thing. 

"Odd." He says. 

"Hn." 

Sometimes she just stares at him like she's expecting something. He's reading and she's just staring at him. It takes a considerable amount of willpower for him to just calmly ask, "Yes Miss Parker?" 

She frowns. "May."

_Lord._ He breezes passed it, "Can I help you?"

"Actually I came to help you."

He glances up at her and blinks because--"Pardon?"

"I came to help _you._ "

"With…?"

"Whatever you need!"

"I don't need anything." He says automatically. 

She stares, waiting. 

He stares back. 

They stare at each other for a long while. 

"Perhaps Wong could use your assistance." He says eventually because he's learned by now that she'll just keep sitting here until he either dismisses her or gives her something to do. 

She is extremely persistent. 

Not with touching, thankfully, she's eased off on that. But now she's just. Distracting. Perfume. Nice clothes. She's doing it on purpose. Doing things with her hair.

"May." He says the day she walks in with her hair done up nicely in a dress that is far too distracting to be just trailing through the Sanctum in. 

"Yes?"

"You..." How does he phrase this? "Seem to be dressed for something." 

She beams, smile warm. "Yeah. I'm seeing someone tonight."

Oh.

"Good." 

She looks...curious. "You told me to."

"I know."

"...does it bother you?"

"Of course not." 

She presses her lips together. "Okay."

"It doesn't. "

"I didn't say anything." She laughs and he rolls his eyes.

He knew her infatuation with him wouldn't last forever. He feels relieved almost. Good. Now he doesn't have to worry about--

"This hasn't changed anything. I'm just getting my needs met."

"Pardon?"

"He reminds me of you."

Well. He really isn't sure what the hell he's supposed to do with _that_ information. "...That's very unhealthy." 

"I thought you didn't care?"

"I don't." He doesn't. At all.

"So what's the problem?"

He sighs. "Nothing, May." 

But there is a problem. She starts showing up with marks on her. Distracting marks. The marks of a lover. Bruises from rough play. He isn't worried about it because she seems so happy. And again he doesn't care. She seems pleased by the markings. She's glowing actually and it's...even more distracting than when she used to just hover around him. 

He shoos her away because she's getting this look on her face. She's getting ideas about _what this all means_ and it means nothing so he has to cut that off at the pass. He catches her by the elbow and she winces and he finds it...kind of annoying. But only slightly, because obviously he doesn't care what she does in her free time. 

"Don't you have things you need to take care of?"

"No." Why does she sound so helpless?

"I need to get back to work." He huffs, because she's trying to tempt him and it's not working but--but it _might_ if she keeps looking at him like she wants him to ruin her. She's escorted to the front door and he says it to remind her again, "I can't give you what you want."

"I know, Stephen." 

Why does she say his name like that? Like it's the only name she wants to say. When he shuts the door he tries not to think about how her scent lingers and how his fingers are warm from where his skin touched hers. 

When she's with Peter he can see how they're related. They have the same smile. The same ridiculously over optimistic sense about them. She always brushes hair out of his face and listens intently. 

If only she devoted that much effort to listening to everyone else. 

He bristles at the thought because it doesn't matter if she does or doesn't. But soon she's looking at him and asking him something and he misses it because he's too busy convincing himself that none of this matters. 

"Pardon?"

"Will you come?" 

He stares. 

"To Peter's birthday dinner." She prompts. 

Peter is trying his hardest not to look too hopeful. He keeps looking down and to the side and at his Aunt. 

"I will try." Is all Stephen can offer. 

May seems satisfied with this, grinning at her nephew who sighs because perhaps he'd been imagining that the request would be offensive. 

The dinner is nice. She invites Wong and Peter's friends and his girlfriend. She fawns over everything Peter does and it makes both Wong and Stephen raise a brow. At least he's loved. He catches May in one of the halls dabbing makeup on a mark on her neck to hide it. 

"If you have to hide it perhaps you shouldn't allow it to happen." 

Her bare shoulders jump. She turns toward him with a frown on her face. It isn't nearly as intimidating as she thinks it is. "Oh stop. It's just so Peter doesn't ask questions."

"Perhaps you should allow him to."

She squints. "The marks bother you."

"No. They don't. I couldn't care less."

"If they were yours would you be so bothered?"

His lips flatten into a line. "May." It's a warning. 

"Stephen." She's challenging him. Her hair is up and a few strands are loose, dangling and brushing against her neck. 

He lifts a shaking hand, curling a finger under her chin to tilt her head up. "You can't have me. I will never be yours. Tempting me and taunting me won't change the situation. I can't get attached to you." 

She doesn't look hurt by this news. In fact she looks weirdly delighted. Her fingers are thin and delicate. They wrap around his wrist. 

"But I can be yours?"

"What?"

"You can't be mine." She swallows. "But I can be yours?"

Jesus fucking christ. "No. You can't." 

He can't let her.

"You'd like that though." 

Yes. He would. His voice is firm. "No I wouldn't."

She's moving toward him, her other hand curling around his neck and--honestly it does nothing to him. It doesn't make his body heat up. He certainly doesn't groan into the kiss she gives him. And he _definitely_ doesn't let one of his hands settle on the small of her back to bring her closer. 

Except.

He does.

And it's a mistake.

Because her body melts against his and it's heady and intoxicating to have this much control over another person. She gives in to him far too easily. And he shouldn't indulge. 

Stephen never indulges. 

He shouldn't. He can't. 

But he ends up shoving her up against the nearest wall. It's too easy to hike her dress up. She doesn't need to remove it. Maybe she planned this. He can't tell. But she's kissing him and her hands are in his hair. 

Her body yields to him and it's so hot and tight he has to turn his mouth away from hers. Teeth sink into her shoulder. It's a new mark. He doesn't stop until she cries out softly, fingers tugging on his hair. 

She says his name and it makes it so much worse. Her back keeps hitting the wall, he's thrusting into her too hard--she'll be sore. She'll feel him for days and maybe that's the point. He doesn't know. He just knows he can't do this again. So he marks her up as much as he can, fucking her as hard as he can. He leaves bruises on her thighs and delights in the way she tries to stay quiet, huffing soft little noises of need in his ear. 

It's intoxicating. He doesn't warn her when he finishes and he hadn't planned on fucking her in the first place. They sit there breathing harshly for several long moments. Her arms are around his shoulders, like an embrace. His teeth are still in her skin and when he lifts his head the mark is so much uglier than all the other marks on her. But it's his. 

And it's a dark reminder of what he can do to her. His attention is fierce and painful and ugly. 

She kisses him sweetly like he's just made love to her and he sighs. 

"May--"

"I know." 

They go back to dinner and no one asks where they've been. Wong fixes him with a questioning look. But Stephen can tell he knows. May doesn't come to the Sanctum for awhile and at first Stephen is pleased. He feels like he's finally driven her away. 

But soon she's back and he sees her in the garden with Wong. There's no bandage over the wound he gave her. She's wearing a shirt that bares her shoulders and he can tell Wong is asking about it. But she shakes her head with a smile and brushes it off. 

Stephen sips his tea as he watches from the window that looks out over the back garden. How troubling. But he still doesn't care. Their little excursion has changed nothing. 

But it happens again.

He marks her again. Always in the same spot. Biting into it over and over. She always says his name like it's the only word she knows. Like it's a prayer and a curse at the same time. She doesn't tell him she loves him but he knows that she does. It's in her kisses, in her lingering touches. In the way her eyes always find his.

The Sanctum is quickly running out of surfaces he hasn't fucked her on. He always tells himself this the last time. He never takes her to his bed. Because he doesn't want her to get any ideas. 

But he starts kissing her suddenly. In the middle of a sentence. She always melts into him, curling her arms around him like it's the only thing she wants to do. He leaves another mark on her thigh. It's a brutal bite and he knows this, even kisses the site apologetically when she winces. But she never complains. She hums, pleased. 

"I'll feel it all day." _I'll feel you all day._

He growls because that's the whole point but hearing her acknowledge it is...intoxicating.

At some point he starts thinking of her as his and when he sees another mark that he hasn't left on her he pulls her aside and holds her chin so she can't look away. 

"Don't let him mark you anymore."

"Why?" She looks defiant and he wants so badly to punish her for it in the most delightful and filthy way he can. Sometimes she does things just to get under his skin. 

"You know why." He accuses.

"I don't." 

Her hands are on his chest, curling into the fabric there. 

"May." 

"Tell me." She's pleading with him. 

"You know." He repeats. "I can't."

"Because I'm yours. Right?" She's giving him a work around. Admitting it without really admitting it. "Hypothetically. In...another place."

God its heartbreaking how badly she wants him. His forehead presses to hers. "Hypothetically. It is a possibility." 

"Stephen." She kisses him and he sighs against her mouth. 

"This is the last time." 

"Okay." 

She agrees because they both know it won't be. 


End file.
